


like a cheshire cat (i think that you are just a grin)

by Stxrdust



Series: under my skin [2]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: (1) Sex Joke, Benrey's Still Being A Little Bitch, Blood, Clothed Showers, Developing Relationship, Gordon Freeman's Mental Breakdown: Part 2, Gordon Freeman's Poor Self-Restraint, Kissing, M/M, Swearing, Takes Place During Act 3: Part 1, The Black Mesa Public Bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25835680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stxrdust/pseuds/Stxrdust
Summary: “No– no way, we’re in– this place is fucking disgusting Benrey, no way.”“Wanna uhh– flippa coin?”Gordon had to be hallucinating from blood loss and a shit ton of morphine, there was literally no other explanation.“You– you want to flip a coin to decide whether or not we should make out in the Black Mesa public bathroom?”Benrey scoffed. “Bro, who’s gonna walk in? The fuckin’ corpses?”
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Series: under my skin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874596
Comments: 17
Kudos: 243





	like a cheshire cat (i think that you are just a grin)

**Author's Note:**

> Song Title From: Jukebox The Ghost - Under My Skin

Gordon stumbled into the bathroom, hand shooting up to grip the door frame in an attempt to keep himself upright. He wanted to _scream_. Or collapse. Or both. He had never been so glad to be in a Black Mesa public bathroom in his _life_. He’d been shocked to find one that hadn’t been blown to pieces or overrun by monsters, but hey, maybe this was some good karma to bless him for the insane amount of shit that he had to deal with on a daily basis, especially in the last two hours. 

Approximately one hour and fifty-seven minutes earlier, Bubby had shot and subsequently killed one of the other scientists before the man could give Gordon the vital information of where the _hell_ he was supposed to be going. 

Approximately one hour and forty-nine minutes earlier, Dr. Coomer had gotten caught in the biggest barnacle that Gordon had ever seen in his life, which, to be fair, wasn’t too many, but it still took them over half an hour to get him out. 

Approximately one hour and sixteen minutes earlier, Tommy had accidentally crossed into a threshold that had promptly exploded and separated them, and they had then spent another half an hour moving the debris to get him out. 

And approximately fifty-nine minutes earlier Benrey, had straight-up disappeared and fucked off to God knows where. 

Not that Gordon was even remotely worried, the little bastard was most likely fine. He always was, _somehow_. Gordon tried not to look too hard into why that fact relieved him so much.

Taking a mental check of his body, Gordon came to the _truly_ shocking conclusion that he was exhausted as fuck. 

So, just collapse then. That was cool. Or, would be cool if he didn’t know that Bubby would most definitely murder him in his sleep for holding the team up for longer than strictly necessary. 

He winced as the door slammed loudly behind him, the noise echoing off of the tiles and leaving his already pounding head feeling as though someone had torn it in half. Gordon had never longed for Tylenol more in his life. The morphine in his suit was good, but limited, and he had been running low for some time. Knowing that he was most definitely going to get shot at again later, Gordon wasn’t inclined to use it to fix up a mere headache, no matter how much it felt like his brain was one loud noise away from turning to mush and dripping out his ears. He grimaced at the mental image. 

He walked cautiously, trying not to let his boots hit the ground too hard so as not to cause excess noise that would no doubt be amplified by the room and make his head just that much closer to splitting open. He trudged over to the nearest sink. As soon as it was within reach he grasped onto the cracked porcelain with a bruised hand, heaving himself to stand in front of it and hesitantly allowing it to support some of his weight. 

His head felt like a lead weight on his shoulders, and he let it hang down, both to release some of the tension that had wormed its way into his muscles and made a home there, and so as not to have to face his reflection. 

Reaching a shaking hand out to turn on the tap, he let out a relieved exhale and untensed slightly more as the water started to run, a higher power granting him mercy for fucking _once_. After a few minutes, when he felt that he could stand on his own without straining every bone in his body, he pushed his glasses up to perch on the crown of his head and placed his hands under the steady stream of water, leaning down to splash some of the lukewarm water on his face. He watched with hazy eyes as red and brown ran from his hands and face to spiral down the drain. 

Steeling himself for what he was about to see, Gordon raised his head to look at himself in the mirror, and almost immediately winced at the sight that he was met with. Past the grime and cracks of the old mirror, he saw himself, except this version of himself looked like someone had hit him with a car. Or a bus. Or possibly a very small plane. 

He reached up, picking at a scab on the side of his jaw despite his better judgment, green eyes following the blood as it trickled down his neck and past the neckline of his HEV suit. He caught sight of his fingernails, chipped and dirtied like they hadn’t been since he was a little kid making weird potions consisting of mud and leaves and whatever else he could get his hands on. 

God, he hadn’t felt like this much of a mess since he’d gone to his one and only college party, where he had completely blacked out and woken up with a pounding headache and a cracked phone in the middle of a junkyard. 

A glint in the mirror drew his eyes in the direction of his glasses, which he lowered off of the top of his head to study. The right lens was broken, cracked right down the middle and filled in with dirt and probably other things that Gordon didn’t want to know about. He spared a thought as to whether or not he still had vision insurance before deciding that he could probably figure something out later, worst-case scenario he still had his contact lenses at home, even if they were a bitch to put in. Gordon never had gotten used to the feeling of something in his eye.

Frowning down at his glasses, he lowered them under the water and let it run over the lenses, carrying dirt down into the sink and hopefully getting rid of the smudges on them. He stayed like that for a few minutes, standing stock still as he watched the water until it eventually ran clear, signaling that it had done all it could at the current moment for the grime on his glasses. 

Gordon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking around for something to wipe his broken glasses dry on. Thankfully, the paper towel dispenser seemed to be in good condition and, as revealed with two presses of the lever, was more than happy to provide him with paper towels. He swiped two from it, wiping the droplets and excess dirt from the lenses and, after a minute of internal debate, running them under the water so that he could wipe some of the muck from his face. 

Gordon’s frown deepened as the paper towel came up without doing much good, the grime still practically tattooed deep into the pores of his skin. With a few more fruitless attempts at removing the dirt and a sigh, he dropped the used paper towels down into the trash can next to the sink. 

Slipping his glasses back on, he panted his hands against the porcelain and let his head hang again as he attempted to get some weight off of the piercing pain in his side. He took in a deep breath, exhaling it ten seconds later and repeating the action. “ _Breathe_ , Gordon.” 

The air definitely wasn’t pleasant to breathe in, stuffy and humid and slightly suffocating, but it was far better than the kind that had flooded down the hallways, tasting of dirt and metal and alien whatever-the-hell. Gordon coughed, recoiling even more at the sight of actual dust coming up from the air as he did. 

Teary eyes caught on the cracked clock in the corner of the room, and he could just make out that he’d been fucking around by the sink for over the span of fifteen minutes. He swore, he only had so long before someone ( _read: Bubby_ ) barged in and started berating him for taking too long. Fuck, fifteen minutes and he hadn’t even started to take a shower which was the whole _goddamn_ reason he’d entered the bathroom in the first place. 

Gordon pushed himself away from the sink with a sigh, walking over to one of the six wooden benches that were sat out near the lockers. Looking down at it, he debated sitting on it to get his suit off, but the logistics as well as the weirdly shaped bug that crawled from a crack in the wood quickly made his decision for him. 

He placed his hand against a nearby locker for balance and gritted his teeth, taking a more thorough mental check of his body than the one previously, focusing on the parts where it hurt instead of pushing them to the back of his mind to be addressed at a later date. The first thing Gordon noticed was that the HEV suit was absolutely covered in dried blood, most of it not his –although he tried not to think about the reasons for it– and that dirt had found its way into every crease of the fucking thing. 

The second thing was that the back of his head felt like it had been split open, and when he touched it he could feel the blood matting his hair. His hands were shaking like they hadn’t since he had done his thesis on Transuranic Crystals and decided that not sleeping for a week straight was a good life decision. Gordon snorted. Jesus, and he had thought that _thesis_ was going to be the most stressful thing of his life. Too bad life fucking hated him for some reason and loved to try and top its attempts to cause Gordon _constant_ suffering. 

He cringed when he caught sight of a particularly gruesome slice across the knuckles of his right hand, blood flaking and dried around it. Using his left hand, he pushed himself up and off of the bench to start the grueling process of removing all the blood and alien goo and god only knows what else from his battered body. Reaching back, Gordon struggled for a minute to unlatch one of the main hooks in the HEV suit, finally getting it on the fourth try. 

The suit had been damaged so badly from his adventures that a few of the latches were completely broken, although on the bright side the damage allowed Gordon to remove the suit with less of a struggle than he would normally go through. 

One by one he let the bright orange pieces clatter to the floor, not finding it in himself to even attempt to care about the damage it could cause. Black Mesa was fucked, and Gordon figured the chances of that changing were very low. Plus, the thing was already destroyed, the physicist doubted that he could do much more to break it by dropping it when almost everything was already broken and cracked.

Gordon was infinitely thankful that he had worn clothes under it, even if it had made him overheat far too much –in hindsight wearing a hoodie probably wasn’t the best idea– and they were almost completely soaked through with sweat and most likely some blood. He grimaced down at the blood-stained hoodie, pulling it over his head almost immediately to drop it onto the bench. 

After, he studied his shirt, which seemed to be in the same if not fucking _worse_ condition than the hoodie. Gordon peeled it off of his skin slightly, wincing at the pain that shot through his side and biting the inside of his cheek when he realized that the wound that had bloodied his shirt hadn’t yet stopped bleeding. “Fan-fucking-tastic.” 

Bracing himself, Gordon pulled his shirt up higher, analyzing a deep cut across his torso. Thankfully it wasn’t anything serious, but it still hurt like a fucking _bitch_. 

He was so absorbed in studying his newly-found injury that he failed to hear the sound of the bathroom door slamming, or the footsteps against the tiles that got closer and closer. 

“Yo, you got passport?” 

Gordon jumped, letting out a startled yelp as he dropped the hem of his shirt and spun to face the intruder. 

Benrey’s lip quirked up at the corner, amusement evident in his eyes. “Gonna have to see some credentials, bro.” 

Gordon glared at him, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “Oh great, you’re back,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, “What do you wa–” He froze up as he actually _looked_ at Benrey, eyes going wide at the sight of the security guard. 

Benrey looked almost grey in the shitty lighting of the room, his button-up completely soaked with blood –turning the light blue into a dark red– along with the right side of his face. There was a nasty slice along the side of his forehead that almost reached his jaw, nose dripping blood and some of his hair seemingly slightly tinted red. His left hand was clutching his busted-up helmet, and Gordon didn’t even _want_ to ask what had happened to his vest. Gordon also caught sight of the bruise on his neck, but hastily averted his eyes. 

Benrey, despite his battered appearance, seemed to possess the same uncaring demeanor as he always did, swinging his leg back and forth as it scraped along the floor.

“You look like shit, man,” Gordon tried not to let the concern seep into his voice, “Where the _fuck_ have you _been_?” 

“Uh, dunno if you have the clearance to be asking that, bro,” Benrey crossed his arms, holding out an expectant hand, “Got some ID?” 

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Why do I even ask?” 

Scowling, he went to turn away from the other as the pounding in his head worsened, though he froze when Benrey spoke up again. 

“Wow, s’with the blood? Looks like– looks like you fucked up there, buddy.” 

Gordon _knew_ he shouldn’t let Benrey get to him like this. He _knew_ that the guard was just trying to get a rise out of him. But, _goddamn it_ , he was tired and sore and felt like he was ten seconds from death and Benrey was _not_ fucking helping. Not in the slightest. He spun back to face the guard, glaring at him. Why did Benrey have to be so _fucking_ annoying? 

“I fucked– you’re covered in more blood than I am!” 

“Huh?” 

Gordon resisted the urge to groan, covering his face with his hands. “Oh– forget it, man. I’m not doing this with you right now.” 

He took another deep breath, or, attempted too. His inhale was replaced with a wheeze, and in a flash, his knees were pressed to the tiles as he coughed up blood onto the floor. His chest felt like it had been hit with a ton of bricks, knocking the air from him, and with every exhale he felt as though he was going to choke on his own blood.

_Was this what drowning was like? Good thing he’d written his will._

After a few seconds, the blood pounding in his ears ceased, and Benrey’s slightly concerned voice filtered through. “Yooo, bro?” 

Gordon tried to reply, but his only response came in the form of coughing up more blood, which only succeeded in doing the opposite of the comfort that he had attempted to provide with his words. 

“... bro?” Benrey’s combat boots stepped into his line of vision, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder as the guard crouched down next to where Gordon was hunched over. “Yo, Gordon? Bro, you gonna die on the bathroom floor? Lameass.” 

“I’m–” Gordon cut himself off as he coughed violently, chest making a worrying wheezing sound with every breath, “I’m good.” 

The hand on his shoulder relaxed slightly, loosening the grip on Gordon’s shirt. “Oh, nice. Not gonna have to put you in top ten bathroom deaths. No fame for you, less work for me.”

Using the incredibly useful skill of blocking Benrey out that he had gained over their time together, Gordon ignored Benrey and placed his palm flat against a, well not clean, but bloodless part of the tile, taking a deep breath when he felt that he could accomplish such without coughing and pushing himself off of the ground. 

He felt an arm hook under his own as Benrey helped pull Gordon up from the floor. The second he was on his feet Gordon stumbled backward onto the bench, it letting out a less-than-comforting squeak as he collapsed on it. He rested his elbow against his knee, dropping his forehead down onto his open palm. 

Benrey’s shadow loomed over him, blocking out the bright light that had been burning Gordon’s eyes a second prior. “Uh, you like, done being cringe, bro? Haha,” Benrey’s voice came out oddly strained. 

He lifted his head from his hands, squinting up at Benrey despite his glasses. 

The guard shuffled nervously, hands clasped behind him. 

Gordon laughed, he couldn’t help it, the sight of Benrey seemingly timid was just so _bizarre_ , and his head hurt _so goddamn bad_. His laugh only got louder when he saw Benrey’s eyes widen in shock, looking for all the world like a startled cat. 

“Yeah,” Gordon’s voice came out raspy, struggling not to cough as he attempted to get his laughter under control. A sharp pain laced up through his side a second later, and it was all he could do not to double over again, his hand shooting to the still bleeding spot on his torso. 

For once, Benrey didn’t make any mocking comments about Gordon’s obvious pain, and if he had possessed any brain cells left to think with he would have thought the silence awkward. As it was, Gordon was simply too busy being content with the fact that the bleeding was starting to slow. 

He startled a second later, jumping slightly in his seat –despite his body’s protests– when a palm pressed down gently over his own. Before Gordon could look up to question Benrey or even just bat him away, the guard’s hand started fucking _glowing_. 

“What the hell?” Gordon attempted to scramble backward, but the unwavering grip on his opposite shoulder along with the wound that was currently burning stopped him almost immediately. 

A few seconds of pain later, Benrey pulled both of his hands back from Gordon, causing the physicist to almost fall backward off of the bench in his haste to get away. Which, for some reason, wasn’t causing his side excruciating pain like it was supposed to be doing. Unnerved, Gordon cast a wary glance up at Benrey, but, like normal, he was greeted with absolutely _zero_ explanation as Benrey only blinked at him. 

Hands shaking, Gordon hesitated for a second before pulling up the side of his shirt, jaw dropping when he saw that the huge gash that had been sliced right across his side less than a minute earlier was just fucking _gone_. 

“How in the fuck?” Gordon’s shocked gaze shot from the gash to Benrey’s face to the gash again. “How– how’d you do that?” his words came slightly slurred. 

Benrey shrugged, eyes darting everywhere but at Gordon before they landed on something behind him. “Woah, Gil.” 

“... what?” Gordon blinked blearily at the guard, turning to watch as Benrey bolted past him and crouched down, fingers picking something so small that he couldn’t see it off of the ground. What he did see, however, was the glare that the light reflecting off of it and into his glasses produced, causing him to wince. 

Benrey frowned down at the item in his palm. “What? Booo.” 

Gordon’s brain took a second to catch up. “... boo?”

Benrey was on his feet in an instant, flicking the object faster than should have been physically possible. 

Instinctively, Gordon threw his hands up in front of his face to block the attacking object, feeling it hit the middle of his left palm harshly. He dropped his hand onto his lap, staring in confusion at what he realized was a grimy old quarter. It took longer than usual for Gordon to decipher Benrey’s words than usual due to the head injury, but after a minute it clicked. He snorted, lips twitching up at the corners. “Gil? This isn’t fucking Final Fantasy, man.” 

“Meh meh meh.” 

Gordon rolled his eyes fondly, pushing himself off of the bench and slipping the coin into the front pocket of his pretty-much destroyed jeans. Yawning, he stretched his arms above his head, wincing at the sound of multiple bones cracking loudly. 

The lack of awful and uncomfortable commentary from Benrey confused him for a minute, surely the unnerving noise would provide him with some bullshit comment to spew. Gordon opened his mouth to ask if the other was okay, turning and closing his mouth when he caught sight of Benrey messing around with a hole in the wall, the semi-bloodless side of his face practically pressed against the dirtied tile. 

Gordon grimaced at the sight, pushing away the thoughts of just how many germs Benrey was picking up doing that, and, after a minute of internal debate, deciding that he couldn’t look at him with half his face drenched in blood any longer. 

Walking over to the sink, he reasoned with himself mentally as he yanked out a few more paper towels. Benrey clearly wasn’t going to clean it himself and the guard had healed up his side somehow, the least that he could do for the other was help wipe the blood from his face. Plus, then Gordon wouldn’t be forced to look at the disgusting mess for the rest of their time at Black Mesa wherever he looked at the other, which he would admit in the secrecy of his mind was quite often. It wasn’t his fault that Benrey was always getting into trouble whenever Gordon took his eye off of him for less than a second. 

Careful to avoid the gash still present on his right hand, Gordon turned the lever to the faucet and lowered the paper towels under the water to let them soak for a second. He heard a loud crash over the sound of the water, but opted to ignore it for the moment with the conclusion that he was most likely better off not knowing. He rung the towel out of the sink, letting the excess water flow down the drain before looking over his shoulder to check and make sure that Benrey wasn’t fucking dead or something due to whatever had caused the jarring noise. 

Thankfully (or not-so-thankfully, depending on who you asked), Benrey hadn’t managed to crack his skull open or anything of the sort and, ignoring the blood all over him, was in perfectly fine condition. 

Well, from what Gordon could see, at least, but he was _not_ going to ask the other to remove any of his remaining articles of clothing to check him for injuries, that was just _asking_ for another ‘incident’. And Gordon knew he had more self-control than that. Most of the time. Fifty-percent of the time. Whatever, the percentages didn’t matter, what _did_ matter was that it was not going to be happening again if Gordon had anything to say about it. 

Another clang of metal came from Benrey’s direction as he dropped down off his tip-toes, heels hitting the large metal box that he was standing on. He blinked in confusion as he saw Benrey push himself up again and attempt to stick his arms through another, albeit slightly bigger hole that was higher up than the other.

“Benrey,” he called out. 

“Huh?” Benrey didn’t even spare him a glance, seemingly absorbed in… chipping away at the tile around the hole with his fingernail? For some reason? 

Gordon resisted the ever-consuming urge to roll his eyes and strolled over to where Benrey was balancing on his tip-toes. Upon closer inspection, he seemed to have succeeded in getting the upper half of his arm shoved into the hole. Gordon clutched the paper towel tighter in his hands, tapping on Benrey’s leg once he reached him to get the other's attention. 

Benrey blinked down at him, a blank stare on his face that didn’t change when Gordon gestured to the bench a few feet away. “... wha ‘sup?” 

“Come on,” Gordon gestured toward the bench again. 

Benrey obediently hopped down off the barrel next to Gordon, boots hitting the floor with a quiet thump. “What? Y’miss me already? Ha, loser.” 

Sighing, Gordon clutched the paper towel in his hand impossibly tighter, opting to ignore Benrey’s attempt to wind him up and, after a split second of hesitation, raising his hand to cup the guard’s non-bloodied cheek. He tried not to pay any mind to Benrey’s wide-eyed surprise as he raised the paper towel to gently wipe the blood from the side of his face. 

Benrey was eerily silent during the exchange, and Gordon could feel his stomach flip from the anxiety it was causing. He had been expecting at least one, ‘ _ha gay_ ’ comment or something along those lines. Weird. 

Once Gordon had wiped most of the blood from Benrey’s face and deemed it the best that he could do, he stepped back and lowered the towel to his side. 

Benrey was still staring at him in that creepy way that he and Dr. Coomer often did, like they were looking into his fucking soul or something.

Desperate to get out from under the burning gaze directed at him, Gordon turned and walked back over to the sink, dropping the newly bloodied towel into the trash. He heard a thump behind him as he did so, signaling that Benrey must have either sat on the bench or the floor. Gordon prayed it was the bench. 

Of course, the blissful (but incredibly creepy) quiet couldn’t last for more than a few minutes, it never seemed to at Black Mesa. 

“Uh-oh, broke mommy’s back? Wow, _wow_ kinda uh– shit of you,” Benrey spoke up, voice wavering slightly. 

Confused, Gordon spun to stare at the other, who thankfully _had_ sat down on the bench, attempting (and failing) to make sense of what Benrey was saying, as usual. “What?” 

Benrey pointed at Gordon’s foot, which upon further inspection, he realized had been placed on a crack on the tile while walking. 

Having a kindergartener at home, Gordon was more than aware of what Benrey was getting at. “Are you _twelve_?” 

“Uh, yeah in–“ 

“If you say ‘inches deep in your mom’ or some bullshit like that I’ll fucking kill you.” 

“No. No, was gonna say deep in _you_. _Duh_ , your mom's back is broken, how you think that works? Gordon Feetman doesn’t know how sex works lol,” Benrey taunted, not looking at Gordon, back to picking at his nails. 

“I– okay, _first_ of all, I have a fucking biological child. _Second_ of all, I wouldn’t have sex with you. Ever.” 

“Can’t believe you’re lying to security. Can arrest you for that. Going to jail, Freeman. No one’s gonna visit you either got you in uh– maximum security. Sucks you, huh? Sucks.” 

“... _what_.” 

Benrey opened his mouth to reply, but Gordon, managing to desperately clasp to a moment of mental clarity, beat him to it. “Actually, never mind. I don’t even care anymore, man. I don’t care. So just shut the fuck up.” 

“Why? Voice too uhh– iconic for you? Bringin’ sexy back, _nya_.” 

Gordon physically cringed at that, and made the snap decision that, for the sake of what was left of his slowly draining sanity, he was going to ignore that last part. “ _No_ , because I am tired, and bloody, and two minutes away from completely falling apart and it is at least half _your fucking fault_.” 

“Uh-oh, you gonna tell? Get your best friend in detention? S’mean. Uncool.” 

“For the last time, you are _not_ my best friend,” Gordon glared at him, gritting his teeth as he felt his head start to hurt worse from the nonsensical noise, “I don’t even _like_ you.” 

“Damn, that why you shoved your tongue down my throat?” 

Gordon froze up. “I–“ 

Well what the fuck was he supposed to say to that? 

Honestly, Gordon really should have expected this conversation to come up at some point. It was inevitable, and no amount of wishing and praying and hoping that Benrey would just forget about it like he had so many things before would stop the inevitable. 

“I– well I–“ Gordon sputtered, waving his hands awkwardly in some gesture that was supposed to convey something, he just wasn’t really sure what. 

So they were talking about this now. That was fine, totally fine, one hundred and one percent fine. It would have been even more fine if the dictionary that Gordon had been accumulating for the past twenty-seven years hadn’t decided to choose the current moment to throw itself in the fucking _shredder_ , leaving Gordon to fend for himself.

When Gordon mentally returned from the astral plane that he had accidentally fucked off to, it was to Benrey pulling a hoodie –Gordon’s hoodie, if the large MIT written across the front had anything to say about it– over his head. Gordon snapped his head to look at where the thing had been a moment ago and, yep, it was gone, that was definitely Gordon’s hoodie. _What the hell._

Gordon stared at him, mentally debating whether or not it would be worth the hassle to try and wrangle his hoodie back from the other. Probably not. Plus, Gordon had felt Benrey’s skin before, the guard was fucking _freezing_. Weirdo. A stupid, dumbass part of his brain whispered in his ear that Benrey also looked sort of cute in it, however, Gordon immediately shoved that thought away. God, he needed to get himself under _fucking_ control. He decided that he would blame his rampant and inappropriate thoughts of Benrey on bloodloss. 

He didn’t even realize that he had been staring at Benrey until the other spoke up. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at? Losing your brain cells, bro? Came out through your mouth into my brain chords.” 

“... _yeah_. What the hell are you doing with my hoodie, man?” 

“Uh– commandeering it,” Benrey smacked his lips, hand tugging on the hoodie string, “might have illegal stuff in it. Idiot.” 

“Illegal stuff?” 

“Yeah like contraband. Or somethin’. Some illegally pirated movies of uh– troll two. Movie wasn’t even a sequel you know? Like, brooo. What’s that about y’just a buncha liars–“ 

The pounding in Gordon’s head was starting to get worse with each word the other spoke, he had to get him to shut up if he didn’t want his brain to shut down completely. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Benrey, I will let you keep that hoodie if you _shut the hell up_.”

Benrey responded almost immediately, clutching the hoodie defensively. “Deal. No takesies-backsies.” 

Gordon rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile as he surveyed the room for any toiletries so that he could finally take his fucking shower. Just as he had suspected though, he came up mostly blank, as the bathroom had been built in a wing that had been vacant for at _least_ a decade. He did, however, spot a few towels on a cart by the showers, so on the bright side, he wouldn't have to walk around sopping wet afterward. 

Snatching a towel up off the cart on his way over to one of the showers, he pushed the curtain aside to duck into the shower nearest to the door. He hung the towel up on the rusty hook on the wall, trying desperately not to look around the shower no matter how curious he was, not wanting to gross himself out any further than he already had been. He tensed up when he heard the rustle of a curtain and shuffling footsteps behind him. 

Psyching himself up for the sight that he already knew he would be greeted with once he looked, Gordon turned. 

He sighed at the sight of Benrey leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed as he stared at the wall opposite him. “Dude, _privacy_?” 

“Huh?” 

Gordon frowned at him. “You know, people don’t normally watch other people take showers.”

Benrey just shrugged like he always did when he was avoiding a question. Well, that along with his stupid ‘huh?’ and ‘wha?’ stuff. Asshole. 

“Don’t uh–“ Benrey smacked his lips, relaxing further against the wall, “don’t mind me. Just makin’ sure you’re not stealing.” 

" _What would I steal_? It’s a fucking– ugh,” Gordon reached a hand up to rub at the side of his pounding head, turning around as his other hand went down to grip the edge of his shirt.

He felt Benrey’s stare burning into his back. He gritted his teeth and spun back around to face the other. “Do you _mind_?” 

“Wha?” 

“Dude, I can fucking _feel_ you staring at me,” Gordon said, scowling at him. 

Benrey simply shrugged his shoulders once more, eyes locked onto where Gordon’s hand had pulled up his shirt slightly. 

Gordon narrowed his eyes at him. “Benrey.” 

“Mhm,” Benrey acknowledged nonchalantly. 

“Benrey.” 

“Niccce.” 

“ _Benrey_!” 

At the yell, Benrey finally startled from his place on the wall, eyes darting up to stare at Gordon’s pissed off and slightly red face. “Huh– wha?” 

Gordon willed away the heat he could feel flooding into his face. “Cut it out, man.” 

Benrey was back to staring at the shower wall opposite him, silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Bro, gonna take your shower or what?” 

Gordon huffed at the response, turning back around and, after a minute of mental back-and-forth, released the hem of his shirt from his grasp. No fucking way was he getting even _remotely_ undressed with _Benrey_ in the room. Because that would be weird, and totally crossing a line, and absolutely, in no way because he was worried about what might happen if he did. Definitely not because of that.

Taking a steadying breath, Gordon reached a hand out to turn the shower handle. He frowned when it didn’t budge an inch. Determined, he tried again, yanking harder and wincing at the high-pitched squeak it let out even though it remained stuck. Before he could yank at it again, the handle snapped upright, sending water cascading down over him and completely drenching his clothes and hair, the people who built the showers apparently not understanding fucking _water pressure_. 

Gordon yelped, jumping backward out of the line of fire, almost slipping on the tile in his haste. He scowled as a peal of obnoxious laughter came from behind him, echoing off the tiles. Fuming, he turned to the source. “What the hell, dude?” 

Benrey flashed him a sharp-toothed grin, eyes crinkled at the corners. “Wha? Was helpin’. Lil’ baby can’t even turn a lever, can you, idiot?” 

Gordon’s scowl deepened at the taunt. “It was fucking–“ Gordon cut himself off, closing his eyes and taking a deep exhale through his nose in an effort to calm himself down. 

Without opening his eyes, he turned and stepped under the stream of (thankfully) lukewarm water, he took another deep breath, letting himself relax for the first time in what felt like forever, reaching back to pull out his hair tie and letting his matted hair fall down over his shoulders. He ducked his head under the stream, soaking his hair and clothes as he relaxed further, the rushing of the water blocked out the sound from the rest of the world. It was pretty unpleasant, the feeling of his soaking shirt clinging to his skin and leaving him feeling cold and uncomfortable, but he figured that it was at least a better option than the alternative. 

The alternative option which he was absolutely _sure_ would lead to him pulling the same shit that he had last time up on that cracked roof with Benrey, except possibly further what with the lack of interruptions, and that, Gordon had decided, was completely unacceptable. 

Because Gordon _hated_ Benrey. Benrey was annoying and obnoxious and probably fucking evil or some shit because he’s _Benrey_ , and just because they may have gotten a little too close on the roof did _not_ mean that Gordon even remotely liked him. Even if he was sort of weirdly attractive and occasionally funny and a really good kisser and when he was feeling particularly proud of himself he got that stupid, smug asshole grin on his face that made Gordon’s stomach loop around and twist itself into knots like it hadn’t since he was in college. 

He felt his face heating up at the train of thought. Gordon tuned back into the world to hear the tail end of what Benrey had been saying loud enough to be heard over the rush of the water. 

“–off, c’mon. Give your best pal Benrey some content. Meanie.” 

He turned around to face the guard. “I– sorry?” 

Benrey groaned exaggeratedly and rolled his eyes. “Let’s fucking make out or some shit. C’mon, bro. Don’t leave me hangin’. Content-starved. Haven’t posted in days, bro. Need some fuel.”

Gordon understood about half of what Benrey had just said, and decided that it wasn’t even worth attempting to understand the rest of that sentence. What he did understand from it, however, made his face go even redder as he desperately tried to sputter out a decent response to that. “No– no way, we’re in– this place is fucking disgusting Benrey, no way.” 

“Wanna uhh– flippa coin?” 

Gordon _had_ to be hallucinating from blood loss and a shit ton of morphine, there was literally no other explanation. 

“You– you want to flip a coin to decide whether or not we should make out in the Black Mesa public bathroom?” 

Benrey scoffed. “Bro, who’s gonna walk in? The fuckin’ corpses?” 

Gordon stayed frozen, mind completely blank. He was far too out of it to be having _this_ sort of conversation with Benrey, he could already feel that the adrenaline from earlier had worn off, leaving him sore and hurting and so, _so_ tired. 

Gordon opened his mouth to reply, figuring that he could at least say something and pray that it made sense, but when he blinked Benrey was right in front of him, ignoring all of the laws of personal space like he always did. Gordon’ snapped his mouth shut, feeling it dry up at the downright predatory smirk that Benrey was giving him, looking up at Gordon from under his lashes. 

“S’wrong, bro? You _scaaared_?” He taunted. 

Gordon scoffed, firmly ignoring the fact that Benrey must have been able to see just how red his face was. “You aren’t scary, man.” 

He tensed as he felt hands slid up his chest, fingers twisting the fabric of the front of his shirt to pull him closer. He felt his heart start to pound faster as he stared at the other. Watching as Benrey pulled the fabric of his shirt closer to his face, seemingly studying it or whatever the hell it was that he was doing. Gordon often found it best not to ask what was going on in Benrey’s fucked up mind. 

He cleared his throat. “Uh– dude?”

Benrey seemed to snap out of whatever weird trance he had been in, shaking his head and blinking up at him. “Huh?” 

Gordon desperately scrambled to grab onto the line of conversation before he said or did something stupid that he wouldn’t be able to take back. Of course, because the whole world was out to get Gordon for some reason that he couldn’t comprehend, the response that he came up with didn’t help with his Benrey dilemma or attempt to practice self-control even slightly. 

“Uh– coin?” Gordon mentally slapped himself. 

Benrey’s eyes widened, the grey of his iris almost completely overtaken by black. “Oh, shit. Yeah? Heads, yeah?” 

Before Gordon could protest (half-heartedly, of course), Benrey shoved his hand into Gordon’s front jean pocket, ignoring the startled squeak that Gordon let out and pulling out the quarter that he had found earlier. 

Without a second’s hesitation, he placed the coin on his thumb, flipped it into the air, and snatched it up in his fist with a flash of blue, not even looking down to check before holding his hand out and opening his fist to show Gordon that it was heads-up. 

Gordon blinked at him, feeling his lips twitch up in the beginnings of a smile. “That’s cheating.”

Benrey shrugged, slipping the coin back in Gordon’s pocket despite the second choked-off noise of surprise the other produced. “Dunno what you’re on about, bro.” 

Gordon frantically racked his brain for any last semblance of self-restraint, any poor excuse that would give him a second to try and grasp onto his slowly deteriorating sanity. 

Think things, Gordon. Floor, sink– door! 

Benrey hadn’t closed the door behind him when he’d entered, had he? 

“The… door?” Gordon waited for the expected mocking or complaining. What he had not been expecting, however, was for Benrey’s eyes to flash blue, the slam of what Gordon assumed was the bathroom door echoing off of the tiles of the room. Gordon jumped slightly. “Holy shit,” Gordon wheezed involuntarily, slapping a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter just a second too late. 

Benrey’s smirk morphed into a grin, that stupid ass grin that made Gordon heart flip over and over until he was practically sick with it, Gordon’s wheeze all the encouragement he needed to continue being horribly insufferable. “Yo, impressed? Cool, right?” Benrey seemed genuinely excited for the answer. 

Gordon ducked his head down so that the other couldn’t see the smile that he was biting back. “No,” he said, although it didn’t come out very confidently, amusement slipping through slightly.

Benrey’s hand snuck up from his collarbone to his shoulder, grin widening. 

Gordon was suddenly struck with what he was doing, the situation hitting him like a goddamn freight train. 

What the hell was he doing? Self-restraint, Gordon. Jesus fuck. He needed to get himself the hell together. He silently wished that he could blame Benrey for it, for Gordon’s absolute inability to set boundaries to stop him from doing shit that he _knew_ was bad for him. Benrey was to blame for a lot of things, but not this. This was all on Gordon. _Gordon_ had kissed him up on that roof and started this whole goddamn thing. He could have made Benrey leave at any time. Make him piss off about the whole kissing thing and he would have. Gordon _knew_ he would have because Benrey was an _asshole_ but he wasn’t _that_ kind of asshole. 

“Why you lying, bro? Always lying to security, you’re lucky I’m so nice. So nice to you ‘n you just lie to me, man. ‘Sup with that?” 

“Can’t I get like, _ten seconds_ of goddamn peace to shower, man?” Gordon tried to sound reprimanding, not that Benrey would listen, he never did. 

“Uh– I dunno, can you?” 

Gordon sighed, frustration bubbling up in his chest. “I– that doesn’t make sense.” 

“Wha?” 

“Jesus fuck you are so– so–“ 

“Cool? Sick? Super fucking uhh– iconic?” 

“Wh– _no_! Annoying! And obnoxious and nerve-inducing and just– so–” Gordon broke off with a frustrated huff, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. 

“Meh meh meh,” Benrey mocked him. 

Gordon looked back up and narrowed his eyes at the other. 

Benrey rolled his eyes at him and continued. “Doesn’t matter if I’m obsolete or whatever–“

“Obnoxious,” Gordon corrected on impulse. 

“Gesundheit. Doesn’t matter uh– ‘cuz you like me anyway. You’re just bullying me because you gotta lil’ crush. Gordon Freeman got the hots for best friend Benrey–“ 

The rest came out muffled against Gordon’s palm as the physicist slapped a hand across Benrey’s mouth to cut him off, face red as he frowned at him. 

“I– there is so many things wrong with that sentence that I’m just not going to fucking correct you. But please, for the love of God, shut the hell up for once in your life and leave me alone for _a few minutes_.” He felt Benrey grin against the palm of his hand. 

That didn’t spell anything good. Well, not for Gordon at least. Benrey would probably be fine because he always fucking was. 

Benrey reached up to pull Gordon’s hand away from his mouth, intertwining their hands. “Dunno, bro. Don’t think y’mean it. That what you want for _realsies_?” 

“I–” 

Well of course that wasn’t what he _wanted_ , but Gordon knew better than anyone that you didn’t always get what you wanted. Logically, it would be the much better option to tell Benrey to fuck off. Tell him that he was ‘for realsies’ and get him out before he did something dumb, but he got the feeling that they’d passed the point of no return a while ago, on that fucking roof.

Before he could come up with a nonincriminating response, Benrey’s lips were pressed against his lightly, hand gripping Gordon’s shoulders as he stood on his tip-toes. 

Gordon _really_ ought to push the guard off. Tell him to get the fuck out of the bathroom so he could just take his goddamn shower and get back to the other’s before they came looking. He _really_ should. But when had Gordon _ever_ done what he should’ve? 

Gordon reached up, tangling his fingers in Benrey’s hair, digging his nails in slightly as he pulled Benrey closer to return the kiss. He felt the other bite his lower much harsher than necessary, startling him and leaving Benrey snickering against his mouth. Bastard. 

Benrey pulled away after a second, and before Gordon could ask, dragged him over to the wall and under the water with that hand that was still intertwined with his. Benrey’s hair was getting plastered to his head by the water, but he didn’t seem to take any notice, leaning against the wall and pulling Gordon back in for another kiss.

Gordon spared the thought that leaning against the shower wall was _definitely_ counterproductive to this whole, ‘getting clean’ plan, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to be too bothered. Not with the way that Benrey’s body was pressed up against his, chipped nails digging into his shoulders hard enough that he felt the skin break, fucking _asshole_. 

“Jesus,” Gordon panted as he broke away, glaring at Benrey, “are you fucking _trying_ to hurt me?” 

Benrey raised his arms in an exaggerated shrug before pressing his mouth back to Gordon’s before the physicist could scold him any further. 

Gordon huffed in half-annoyance, half-amusement, but didn’t push him away, instead, after a moment of hesitation, opting to rest his elbows against the wall on either side of Benrey for support, caging the other in. He felt Benrey’s hand slip down his soaked shit, fingers pushing up under the hem and over the newly-healed wound on his side. Figuring that was as much permission as any, he slipped his hands from Benrey’s hair and pushed them underneath the back of his shirt, a bit of a difficult feat considering that it was pretty much soaked into the guard’s skin, the water still pouring down over them as they took the world’s least effective shower ever.

He felt Benrey shiver slightly when he slid his hands up the back of his shirt and pulled him closer. Gordon pulled away after a few minutes, his face flushed and getting the feeling that his hair was most likely tangled to hell and back. 

Benrey didn’t seem to be fairing much better, his pupils blown wide and lips red. Benrey grinned up at him again, and Gordon caught himself staring at the sharp points of his teeth because _what the fuck_. He and Bubby both had it, those weird… fangs? It was really fucking strange, and it was hard not to stare, especially at Benrey’s. But he was not going to be looking into the reasoning for _that_ anytime soon. 

“You wanna touch ‘em?” 

And, _caught_. Shit. 

Gordon rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah right. I’m gonna lose a goddamn finger if I put my hand anywhere _near_ your mouth.” 

“Whuh, nuh-uh.” 

Gordon eyed him skeptically, raising an eyebrow. 

“Cross my heart n’ hope to uh– samurai or whatever.” 

“That’s not–” Gordon cut himself off, deciding that it really wasn’t worth it to correct Benrey sometimes, and crossed his arms. 

“C’mon, would best friend Benrey ever betray you?” Benrey pouted at him, “Bro, we’re buddies. Besties. Soulmates–” 

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” Gordon grimaced, “and no, we are not ‘buddies’ or any of that shit.” 

“Aw, c’mon, bro. Like a vampire. Uh– Edward Cullen ‘n shit. S’hot.” 

Gordon ran a hand down his face, a wheeze escaping him. “Who fucking– who told you that?”

“... uh– classified. No credentials, no questions. Gotta ID you, y'know?” 

Gordon ignored him, and, curiosity winning out against his better judgment, he stuck his finger in Benrey’s mouth mid-sentence. 

Benrey’s words trailed off as he stared at Gordon, startled. Gordon, figuring that he had already passed a shit ton of lines and that one more wouldn’t make a difference, pressed his thumb down against the point. Gordon, like many things he did, immediately regretted it, ripping his newly bleeding thumb from Benrey’s mouth. “Fucking, ow,” he frowned, watching the water wash away the blood. 

“Nice one, bro. Whaddya _think_ it was gonna do?” 

Gordon huffed, shrugging. “I don’t know, man. I’ve lost a lot of blood, okay? It seemed like a good idea,” he replied. 

When he looked up from his thumb Benrey was smiling at him, a weird sort of fondness in his eyes that made Gordon’s heart pound against the confines of his chest. 

He returned the smile with one of his own, ducking down to press their lips together again, softer. One of the hands that had been under Benrey’s shirt moved to press against the side of his neck. Benrey made a noise when he did so, and Gordon went to pull back, concerned.

Benrey seemed to have other ideas though because the physicist didn’t even manage to disconnect their lips before Benrey was locking his arms tightly around Gordon’s neck and dragging him down to his level, forcing Gordon to lean over him so that he didn’t have to push himself onto his tip-toes anymore. 

Gordon wasn’t really sure what had caused the sudden mood change or where the hell it was coming from, but he wasn’t going to complain, not with Benrey’s tongue in his mouth anyway. He let the hand that was still splayed across the guard’s upper back press him closer, other hand pressing down on his neck again, producing another noise. 

Gordon pulled away after a few minutes because, unlike Benrey apparently, he needed to breathe if he didn’t want to fucking _die_. He tried not to get the water still pouring down over them into his mouth when he inhaled. He had half a mind to turn off the shower until he actually used it, but before he could get any further into that line of thought Benrey was pressing his lips to Gordon’s neck. And, because Benrey loved ruining nice moments and was just a bastard in general, he immediately scraped Gordon’s neck with his teeth. 

“Jesus! Watch your fucking teeth, man.” He could have sworn he felt Benrey laugh against his skin before pointed teeth pressed into his pulse point. 

“Fucking, ow! What the hell?” 

Benrey’s response came out muffled, but he was pretty sure that he had heard the word ‘revenge’ in there. 

Gordon used the hand that was under Benrey’s shirt to pinch him, even though he figured it really wouldn’t have much of an effect. He felt Benrey suck on the skin for a second before pressing a kiss to the area that he had just bitten, a soothing gesture that was odd as _shit_ coming from _Benrey_ of all people. Gordon wasn’t going to complain though, it felt nice, comforting. He ran his hand through Benrey’s hair gently, letting his fingers drag along the other’s scalp. 

The guard stayed that way for a few minutes, letting Gordon run his fingers through his hair. Benrey pulled back with a content look on his face, wiping what Gordon had the feeling was blood from his mouth which he made the active decision to ignore so that he wouldn’t gag. 

A thought suddenly occurred to him. 

How long had they been in here? _Fuck_. 

Despite his reluctance to go back to the hell that was currently Black Mesa, Gordon knew that they couldn’t just fuck around in the showers forever. They had to get out of here. Plus, he would take Benrey getting a little bit annoyed with him over the rest of the Science Team walking in on Gordon with his mouth pressed to Benrey’s and his hand up the other’s shirt any day. 

“We… we really should get back before the team comes looking,” Gordon frowned. 

“Aw, booooo. C’mon, few more minutes?” Benrey stared at him, rocking on his heels, “For me? Huh? Yes?” 

Gordon's lips twitched up at the sight of the pleading look Benrey gave him as water splattered down his face. Gordon shook his head in exasperation, looking over at the curtain for a second before turning back to Benrey to pull the other in again. He felt Benrey grin against his mouth, fingers deftly undoing the buttons on Gordon’s shirt before pushing it off his shoulders and onto the wet floor with a smack. 

Yeah, Gordon figured that he could spare a few more minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> wow long title fall out boy better watch the hell out + srry this is bad all my energy's going into the road trip au  
> –  
> ROAD TRIP AU UPDATE!!  
> the first chapter should go up in the next couple of weeks!!! which is why it took so long for me 2 post lol. so pleaaase stick around to read it im super proud of it!!! it’s gonna be a long one but i rlly like it so far! got a lotta fun concepts in there!  
> –  
> side notes  
> *troll 2 really was a horrible movie and i am still mad about it after two years  
> *the im bringing sexy back, nya post haunts me in my sleep  
> *i frequently think about that one ‘why would i have sex with you, kevin’ vine and the joke was based off that i know it was kinda crude but i am not classy :,(  
> *sorry… some of my monster-fucker came through on this a lil i apologize :(


End file.
